Beyond What We Know
by BlankIndexCards
Summary: After three long years of separation, Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter are brought together because of an attack. While Harry recuperates with Draco as his Healer, they're forced spend months together locked in Malfoy Manor. A lot has changed in Draco since the war and Harry isn't ready for any of it. They're starting to let go of their hatred but what left in its place when its gone?
1. Three Years After

**Hello wonderful readers! This is my first time writing a Drarry fic and I really hope it goes well. There is so much chemistry between this couple and I will try my best not to ruin it for you guys. Enjoy!**

It had been three years since the last time Draco had stared into those green eyes. Three long years since the war, since the wizarding community had returned to normal, since Draco became a Healer. Now, three years later, he stood over a patient he'd never dreamed of having. This patient went by many names, The Golden Boy, The Chosen One and The Boy Who Lived just being a few, but Draco had always known him as Potter, often said in a demeaning or sarcastic tone.

Potter had laid unconscious upon the operating room table for hours as Draco poured all of his body into saving his long time enemy while surround by several Healers that unfruitfully tried to help but only ended up complicating matters. Draco eventually snapped, screaming that if everyone did not exit the room he was going to let Potter bleed to death. Everyone had left the room promptly afterward.

The reason why Potter was rushed to St. Mungo's with bleeding gashes on his body and several other magical maladies was because he was an Auror, just like he'd wanted back at Hogwarts. Since Potter hadn't woken up they weren't sure exactly how or by whom his injuries had been caused. He and a group of other Aurors had been investigating a case, split into pairs and since the team was uneven Potter had _bravely _offered to go it alone. Later, one of the groups had found him face down in the dirt, unconscious, and bleeding. Naturally he had been apparated directly to St. Mungo's and Draco happened to be the luck Healer who had no patients at the current time.

Against his better judgement, Draco had saved Potter. It made him nearly nauseous to watch his old enemy dying in a pool of his own blood and mud smeared across his face with a sickly, waxed, greenish color creeping over his skin. It wasn't death that made him sick, for he had seen it time and time again, it was the fact that Harry Potter was dying and he was the one who had to save him. He would have relished the sight of Potter's broken body back at Hogwarts but times had changed and, though he at times found it hard to admit, Draco had grown up.

So now, at roughly four in the morning, Draco sat in a chair next to Potter's hospital bed, waiting for two things. One, for a nurse to bring him clean Healer's robes so he could change out of his once white, now crimson stained robes. Two, he was waiting for his current patient to regain consciousness. After all Draco had done, stabilize him and making his vital signs in good condition again, he couldn't even be bothered to wake up for the impatient Slytherin.

Draco sighed, resting his head in his hands, listening to the clock's second hand that moved ever so slowly. He sat there for what seemed to be an eternity but in reality it was a mere fifteen minutes. A quiet groan severed the silence as Draco's head shot up to see Potter's eyes fluttering open. Emerald met storm cloud and Harry Potter spoke the first words Draco had heard him say in three years, "What the hell...DRACO MALFOY!?"

Well, they weren't the words he had wanted to hear. Draco had been thinking of something more along the lines of, "_Oh Great One, how may I repay for granting me the privilege of the continuation of my life?_" But knowing their past relationship, that response was fairly out of the question. So as expected, he answered with something of equal value, "Of course it's me you bloody git! Who else would it be?!"

"I don't know! Anybody else would be better and a healer would be excellent!" The man raged, struggling to sit upright.

"I AM YOUR HEALER, POTTER!" Draco thundered as he pushed him back down into the mattress.

"Mr. Malfoy, please refrain from screaming at the patients." Said a pleasant looking nurse with curly honey colored hair and bright blue eyes, who calmly handed him a clean, white robe. Draco grumbled as he slid out of his bloodied robe, revealing a dark t-shirt and skinny jeans underneath, and quickly slid the fresh one on. The nurse sighed, "Tsk. Tsk. Draco, you know that those clothes are far too casual. Penlily is enforcing that rule."

Draco murmured something about not caring about Penlily and her stupid rules before the nurse turned to Harry and said, "You know, he really is a miracle worker when it comes to healing but he's so temperamental with everything else. I'm Nancy Ingles, by the way. It's very nice to meet you Harry Potter and I'd shake your hand but for fear of Draco screeching at me about disturbing his patient's bandages." She turned a back to Draco and said, "The Ministry wants to speak to Mr. Potter about his being injured and most likely attacked. Afterwards, Madame Penlily wants to see the both of you." Nancy turned and walked out of the room while Draco yelled profanities about his inability to screech.

This certainly was not what Harry was expecting to wake up to. The first thing he sees, accompanied by a thundering headache, is a blurry image of a silvery, blonde man with red and white clothing in a room full of white. For a brief second, Harry thought he had died, then his eyes adjusted to the light and his glasses. He realized that he was staring at Draco Malfoy for the first time in three years and soon they were back to their old ways, screaming at the top of their lungs. Then he had met a nice nurse named Nancy Ingles, who had mentioned Madame Penlily, the Head Healer, and said she wanted to see them after he was done with the Ministry. Harry reflected on these events as he waited in the disturbing silence that followed her visit.

**.•*•.**

The Head Auror questioned Harry throughly before relinquishing him back to Draco's crude care. Harry couldn't remember much from the attack except he had been walking through the woods, heard a a shout, and before he could turn around the skin in his back had been ripped open. All he could remember after that were flashes of pain and large blank spots in his mind, which they had summed up to a badly done erasing of his memories.

Afterward, Draco and Harry had sat in an awkward silence which reminded of him of Snape's dark and clammy classroom and all the reasons he hated the youngest Malfoy in his school days. Harry rolled these thoughts around in his head until his blood was boiling with words like _mudblood _and _scar head_. He heard an intake of breath and scowled up at Draco who looked like he had been in the process of trying to say something. Malfoy just drew his arms into a folded posture, sighed defeatedly, and cast his eyes to the floor. Harry recoiled at how dejected the man looked until he realized how tightly his own eyebrows were smashed together. He relaxed his facial muscles quickly feeling a little ashamed of himself.

Harry had grown bored, sighed impatiently, and once again tried to maneuver his bandaged body into a sitting position. As soon Draco noticed, he leapt into action and forced Potter back down. Harry tried to move against the hands gripping his shoulders but it was all in vain. "Stop struggling, Potter! You're going to re-open your wounds and be a bloody mess." Draco hissed in Harry's ear, the hot breath tickling his skin, and he swallowed thickly at the contact. He turned his head so that his cheek brushed against the blonde's gently and Draco drew his breath in sharply. A loud clearing of the throat was heard behind them and the Healer whipped around, looking similar to a child being caught doing something wrong. There stood Madame Penlily, brunette hair in a tight bun, a high-heel shoe tapping on the floor, with a half amused half annoyed look hidden behind glasses.

**.•*•.**

"NOOOO!" Harry and Draco roared in unison. Madame Penlily did not look phased in the least as the two fumed at her.

"The Minister and Head Auror agree that it would best if Mr. Potter were to recover at home since the attacker may strike again and this would endanger the other patients and workers. However, he can't recuperate alone so we would naturally send a Healer with him and Draco, you are one of our better Healers." She said calmly, awaiting the retort that was sure to come.

"If I'm one of your better healers then I should stay here! You might need me!" Draco said, feeling somewhat proud but arguing nonetheless.

"I'm sure we can manage just fine while you take care of more important matters." She said, looking at him sternly.

Draco sighed, feeling defeated. In the end there truly was no way around this. He thought he'd gotten that little maggot out of his hair for good. He stared at the floor with such ferocity one would think it would start melting and growled out the words, "Fine, I'll do it."

"What!?" Harry nearly yelled, "No argument? You just giving up?"

"Yes, Potter, because I would like to keep my job and I know you'll do it anyway because the second the Minister needs task done your right there, obediently awaiting instructions!" Malfoy retorted, scowling at the man currently confined to the bed.

"I'm not a dog, Malfoy! Where the hell would we even stay? My apartment is far too small for the both of us." Snapped Harry, his brow furrowing in anger once more.

"I suppose I could accommodate you at Malfoy Manor. It has the largest resources and being healed away from St. Mungo's is little short of house arrest, especially considering they will probably be guarding The Savior of the Wizarding World twenty-four seven." Explained Draco, "Given your state of injuries it will take roughly four months to heal even with magical help."

"Fine." Harry sighed, not unlike the blonde Healer beside him, "If it's to protect the other patients then I'll do it." Draco's face twisted with sickness at this statement because he despised every idiotically heroic move the man made.

"Excellent. I will go and make arrangement with the Minister and Head Auror right now." Madame Penlily said warmly and, giving them no time to interject or oppose, promptly apparated out of the room. The only thing going through the boys minds was _"What the hell have I gotten into?!"_

**Well, tell me how this went for a first chapter and if you like the direction this is heading in. Also, please take a look at my other stories if your interested! Review and criticize my writing constructively! I appreciate that you took the time to read my story!**

**B.I.C **


	2. Home Sweet Home

**Bonjour my lovely readers! I really should be working on my other stories and probably my homework but I really wanted to update for you wonderful people! A big thanks to all those who reviewed because I do appreciate them! Enjoy!**

Harry awoke to the feeling of a soft and silky material brushing against his left hand. He lightly groaned, not wanting to open his eyes, for his body ached all over and the day would likely be filled with moving into the Manor. He thought back to the previous night. After Madame Penlily had finalized the agreement between the two, signing a few document about terms of living and protection, she had left he and Draco alone in a room filled with silence. Draco had stayed very quiet and often glanced at the drowsy Gryffindor, who had quickly fallen asleep afterward. _Speaking of Malfoy, where is the cheeky little git? Shouldn't he be yelling about my incompetence by now?_

Harry forced his eyelids to recede as he glanced around for the Healer. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw the blonde mass nestled into his palm. _That explains what I was feeling earlier. Malfoy must have fallen asleep in his chair last night looking after me. That's kinda...sweet._ Harry ran his hand through the silken locks, tousling them gently with a small smile on his face. The Slytherin looked oddly peaceful for having slept in his office chair and having his face buried in his patient's bed. Draco stirred with a deep sigh and Harry reluctantly revoked his hand. The Slythrein sat up yawning, stretching, and wincing every time his spine popped.

"G'morning Malfoy. Did you sleep well?" Harry asked nonchalantly in an effort to cover up his liking of Draco's hair.

Draco glanced over at his patient and answered, "Good morning Potter. As a matter of fact, I slept very well. But what about you? How are you holding up?"

"I'm sore, stiff, and am being forced to move in with a man I hate passionately. I did sleep well though." The words dripped with sarcasm as they easily rolled off his tongue. Draco stood abruptly, shoving his chair backward. He looked annoyed and somewhat angry.

"Then allow me to get you some pain reliever." The blonde hissed coolly and stalked away, slamming the door behind him. A confused Harry sat in the hospital bed wondering what had set Draco off.

.•*•.

"Home sweet home." Draco sighed as he pushed his patient, who was currently occupying a wheel chair, through the large, intimidating iron gates. Harry had fallen asleep in the hospital bed before Draco had gotten back and woken up to the Healer screaming about driving carefully. Harry had apparently been _kidnapped_ in his sleep, since they were clearly pressed for time and needed to move him as soon as possible. He was being driven in the back seat of a taxi to his new home and had immediately begun to yell at Draco for not waking him up.

Harry was surprised at how beautiful the old house actually looked, since he had been expecting stone gargoyles and dead trees to match. The Malfoy Manor was enormous, towers connected to all four corners of the mansion, what seemed to be a thousand windows staring back at them. The Auror caught glimpses of what looked almost like a park or garden between a grove of cherry trees. Harry was astounded by the not only sheer size of the property but how on earth anyone managed to keep it looking as well as it did. Draco smirked at his awe as they entered the house through grand double doors. The pair were immediately greeted by two beaming houselves. Neither were wearing proper clothing but swathed in clean, neatly cut, and colorful material in the form of togas. They seemed to be in good health and enjoying themselves.

"I am Herky," said the taller one, then pointed at the smaller one,"And this is my sister Parry. It is a great pleasure to meet you, Master Harry. We will assist you in any way possible during your stay here." They both bowed low with large smiles on their faces.

"It is a pleasure to meet you too and thank you for your warm welcome." Harry beamed, stretching out a bandaged hand for them to shake.

Parry turned to Draco and said, "We have already moved in all of Master Harry's things and lunch is nearly ready, sir. Shall we set the table?" Draco nodded with a kind smile on his face. The two house elves apparated away and Harry turned to Draco.

"I didn't know that you were so nice to your houselves, Malfoy, especially after Dobby." Harry mumbled bitterly. He was protective of houselves ever since Dobby's death and occasionally help Hermione campaign for SPEW.

"What, you don't honestly think I'm a carbon copy of my father?" Draco hissed, his expression becoming cold and defensive,"It would surprise me though, everyone else does. I actually happen to like houselves and treat them with standards even Granger would agree with. Just because you hate me, you shouldn't be so quick to assume that I'm discriminative."

"You used to be discriminative!" Spat Harry, his anger rising, "What about mudblood, halfbreed, blood traitor? Don't tell me that's not discrimination!"

"Yes, Potter, I _used_ to be a sick bastard who never had his head screwed on right! But times have changed and so have I. Do you have any idea how sorry I am for everything!?" Draco yelled in an octave higher than he would have liked. He sighed, shaking his head a little as if to shake away his anger, and began to push Harry again. Draco said in a clipped voice, "It doesn't matter anyway. Nothing spoils a good appetite like bitter words and we don't want that."

Harry looked up at the blonde, paying no attention to the grand portraits of nameless figures they passed. Draco seemed a bit dejected after their outburst and avoided looking directly at Harry. Guilt crept over the Gryffindor and he tried desperately to fight it and failed miserably each time. The pair came to an abrupt halt as the Healer went to open a old wooden door with intricate designs of the Malfoy crest carved into it. Harry had noticed that the symbol was all over the house and plastered on every object imaginable. A serpent on the left and a dragon on the right were intertwined beneath it and the rest of their bodies were woven around a six-point star with the letter M in the middle of said star. The M usually had some form of Latin written inside of it that Harry could decipher. _I'll have to ask Draco what that means later._

Draco shoved open the door, splitting the crest in half and dragging Harry out of his thoughts. Before the two was a brightly lit dining room with a ligneous dining table stretching from end to end. The table had an enormous marble inlay of the Malfoy crest in the center and was surround by several sturdy chairs. The room itself was an impressive size with floor to ceiling windows and three chandeliers that hung above the dining table. Light seemed to pour in from every angle and the windows gave an stunning view of the misty, bluish mountains behind the Manor that Harry had obliviously not noticed when they first entered the house. The Boy Who Lived felt wonder similar to the first time he had walked into Diagon Alley.

"It isn't the Great Hall, but it will have to do." Said Draco, as he pushed Harry's wheel chair into a place at the table which was missing a seat. Draco sat down next to him at the head of the table. Harry studied the man. He had obvious bags under his eyes and was still wearing the white coat he'd been given yesterday. Draco slouched with fatigue, compared to his normal iron-rod-up-your-ass posture. His grayish blue eyes still held fire though and his hair was still the best blend between gold and silver Harry had ever seen. Harry almost recoiled at this thought, wondering what the hell was wrong with his mind today.

The Healer cleared his throat in an official manner and began to speak, "I haven't had much time to explain your injuries to you in the past twenty-four hours, so I believe now seems like an appropriate time." Seeing he had caught the others attention, he continued, "Your attacker used a spell similar to the one you tried out on me once. I believe it was called _Sectumsempra_, was it not?" Harry winced at the spell's name. He hated that spell from the very darkest place in his soul. Draco continued not noticing the others discomfort, "In addition to this, they shattered several bones as well. By the time the other Aurors had found you had passed out from blood loss. You were then, of course, rushed to St. Mungo's."

"Why were you picked as my Healer?" Harry piped up. He was rather curious to see if Draco had actually volunteered to do it or not.

"I'm just unlucky like that." Said Draco, grinning at the man, "There are countless people who would love to be in my situation right now but it's probably good that you didn't end up with a psycho who adores you."

"No, I get a psycho who hates me." Grumbled Harry jokingly, though for some reason he was disappointed that Draco hadn't personally chosen to be his healer.

Draco just chuckled before becoming serious and said, "Anyway, the part of the reason that you've been put under 'house arrest' is because the attacker may be disappointed he didn't finish off The Boy Who Lived and having a potential killer in a hospital would endanger several risk would only increase the longer you stayed their. Your wounds have had a potion injected into them that is resistant to magic, which we expect is also the work of your attacker. This particular potion takes a long time to cycle out of the body so you will have to recover without the help of magic. Due to the fact that injuries were sustained all over your body, it will take roughly six months for you to recover."

"SIX MONTHS?!" Yelled Harry, "You mean to tell me that I'm stuck in a house with you for six months?!"

"Yes, that is exactly what I mean. There will be no leaving the property, no visitors, just you, me, and the house elves." Draco said matter-o-factly, "The most you'll be able to do is owl your friends and go out into the garden."

"What if I decide to escape by apperating?" A skeptical Harry questioned. It's not that he really wanted to escape but he might need a break from the git every once in a while.

"There are three reasons that would be improbable, if not impossible. One, in the condition your in you would just end up splinching. Two, like Hogwarts, it is impossible to apparate in or out of the Manor, unless you are considered part of the Malfoy family. Three, Aurors stationed all around the Manor to protect you, which means nothing gets in or out." Said Draco just as Parry and Herky popped into the room carrying two covered dishes, a pot of tea and matching tea cups. They sat the platters on table as Draco said various forms of thank you. They bowed to Draco and then to Harry, who stared at them in disbelief for the pair smiled brightly when Draco thanked them. Herky and Parry vanished just as quickly as they had arrived. Draco sighed contently and said "Aren't they wonderful?"

Harry just nodded deftly as Draco removed the coverings on their plates, revealing a bowl of tomato bisque. Harry continued to study Malfoy as he poured tea for the both of them. He seemed happy, cheerful even, and that was an emotion Harry didn't believe Draco was even capable of without a sinister plot behind it. Something had definitely changed in the man since Hogwarts. Harry quickly realized that prolonged staring was creepy when Draco looked over at him.

The Healer had glanced up from pouring tea for his so called nemesis, only to find the emerald eyes raking over his body. Harry blushed a deep red and suddenly found his soup extremely interesting. Draco handed him his cup of tea, smirking all the while. Harry tentatively picked up his spoon, dipped up some soup, and brought it to his lips. Draco began to speak in between his more confident bites, "So, Potter, I presume you know the rules to home recovery?"

Harry shook his head and continued to stare at his soup with a perplexed frown as if contemplating it's existence. Draco huffed in annoyance and said, "Well, you know that you aren't allowed to have visitors and can't leave the Manor for the duration of the healing. No strenuous activities, of course. You can only send five owls a day, which I find to be a ridiculous rule. Did you know we have to sleep in the same bed? It's one of the rules Madame Penlily is really enforcing this year."

Harry, who had been taking another sip of his soup, spasmed into a fit of coughs. Draco quickly whipped out his wand and cast a quick spell to dislodge the food in his windpipe. The Boy Who Lived took several deep breaths before saying in a shocked voice, "You mean together?! You and me...in the same bed?!"

"Yes, apparently it's a safety precaution though I don't really it's purpo-" Draco said casually before Harry banged his fist on the table and said, "I am NOT sleeping with _you_. I would rather sleep outside than share a bed with a Malfoy!"

"Look, Potter, I understand that you think I'm a disgusting wretch, but could you please be a little more graceful? Honestly, you'll destroy the furniture if this keeps up. I already made preparations for our current bedding predicament. I've enlarged the bed so that their is a sufficient amount of room between us." The Healer said, reverting to his colder tone.

Harry gaped at him and asked, "How can you just take this in stride?"

"There are worse things that could happen to a person." Draco said quietly, a painful grimace on his face. Harry closed his mouth quickly because he of all people knew this. They both understood this fact of life all too well.

**So, how was that?! Gosh, I'm excited today. Thank you for taking the time to read my story and I will try to make a better updating schedule for my other story. ****But anyway, I do love reviewers and their constructive criticism. **Tell me what you think in that lovely comment section and I'll make adjustments!

**B.I.C. **


	3. Bath Time

**Hello** **my lovey readers! I'm terribly sorry that this took forever but between the holidays, my other story, and procrastination, I am slow. Merry late Christmas and Happy early New Year! Enjoy!**

They finished lunch with little to no conversation, then Draco proceeded to show him a few more rooms of grandeur but saving the full tour for the next day. Harry had asked several questions, most of which Draco skirted around and did not answer. Even if Potter was to stay with him for the next six months, he didn't want the Gryffindor to know about ever secret in the Manor. There were many things he prefered to stay private. The two had meandered around the house, Draco occasionally pointing out a person in a painting and recalling a tale about the distant relative. Harry would sit and listen to him, fascinated as Malfoy would expound his tale, stringing his words together in an articulate melody. He had never heard stories told so beautifully except in books and poems.

By the time they made into the upper right tower, where Draco's living quarters were, the sun had gone over the tips of the mountain range behind the house and night had poured into the sky. Draco had blanched a little when they reached the bottom of the marble steps, his heart skipping a beat at the thought of climbing the spiral staircase. He apperated the pair to the top floor instead of trying to drag the wheelchair bound Boy Who Lived up three flights of stairs. As Draco unlocked and turned the knob to open the door, as he had been doing all day, Harry was unsure of how well he would like his new living arrangements. He expected a midevil style Death Eater bonanza but what Harry had found inside of Draco's bedchamber surprised him.

Before the two was a sizable room dimly lit in the warm glow of dying embers on a wide hearth, the fire long gone. On the wall opposite to the stone fireplace stretched a magnificent four poster bed that was seemingly made of a dark mahogany. _Malfoy wasn't kidding when he said he enlarged the bed. _A silver silk comforter with the Malfoy crest emblazoned in black was spead across it with white sheets to match. A black canopy was connect across the four posts, the curtains undrawn. A door to an unknown room stood on the left. A shelf parallel to the large picture window on the right were hung on the wall next to the widened bed, supporting various small trinkets and pictures. One picture in particular stood out to Harry. It was a picture of Pansy Parkinson, Blaize Zabini, and Malfoy at a young age, maybe six or seven, laughing with their arms around each other. _As nasty as they were in school, they look almost innocent in this picture._

"If your finished gawking at my room, I would suggest getting a bath, considering you haven't had one in two days." Draco said dryly, interrupting his speculations. Harry swallowed hard, not knowing how to tell the Healer about his current predicament. Unfortunately, he was still fairly weak from the attack and wouldn't be able to properly clean himself. Glancing down at the younger, Draco saw Harry's nervous look and said, as if he read his mind, "Don't worry about washing yourself, that's what I'm here for."

Harry blushed and was about protest when he felt Malfoy's hand gently touch his head, brushing away some strands of hair that had strayed into his eyes in an attempt at comfort. He drew in a sharp breath as an unknown feeling surged up within him. _What the hell is this bastard doing?! He has no right to touch me like that! _Draco opened the door on the left revealing an almost painfully white bathroom with a large circular bathtub, a vanity made of the same wood as the bed, and the open door of a closet filled with the blonde's and his own clothing. The Slytherin explained earlier that the houselves had brought most of his belongings to the Manor and added them in with Draco's.

Draco walked back over to the boy still sitting in his wheelchair, who had an annoyed look on his face. One arm slipped under Harry's knees and the other around his back. "What do you think you're doing?!" Harry demanded, making a weak attempt to shove the blonde away.

"So you're going to get up and walk to the bathroom?" Draco asked sarcastically. The Gryffindor huffed as he unwillingly relaxed against Malfoy. Securing his grip, he easily lifted The Boy Who Lived. Harry was disgusted with how much he liked the feeling of Malfoy holding him. The Slytherin strode triumphantly into the bathroom cradling the brunette in his arms. He carefully placed him in the shiny, circular tub and whipped out his wand, muttering a couple quick spells. Suddenly, Harry felt cold and realized his clothes and glasses had vanished! They lay in a pile on the vanity next to Malfoy. He yelped in panic and tried to cover what wasn't already hidden by several bandages.

"My God, Potter, you're not naked! I did conjure you up a bathing suit. Do you honestly think I want see you completely undressed?!" The blonde yelled. _Yes, I would absolutley love that._ A small flush appeared on Draco's face as that small voice in his head spoke up again for the hundreth time today. Harry faltered and looked down at the apparently covered space between his legs.

"A Speedo?! MALFOY!" Harry roared, fuming like a child having a tantrum.

Draco chuckled, saying, "I have good taste." He proceeded to preform the same spells on himself. Harry felt his throat dry up instantly as he saw the elder nearly naked. Long legs with a green piece of cloth between them identical to his own, a well toned chest, milky white skin that barely showed his scars with unknown causes. As much as his eyes scoured Draco, he found no tattoos and, to his relief, no Dark Mark. The blonde moved towards the tub, drawing the other out of his daze.

"Y-you're getting in t-too?" Harry stuttered, suddenly more feeling nervous than he had been before. He had never been in such an _intimate _situation before and he certainly didn't want to be in one with Malfoy.

"Of course, you idiot. I need a bath too." Draco said nonchalantly as he waved his wand again and vanished the many bandages on Harry. Harry nervously peered at his body. So many gashes and stitches but thankfully nothing was bleeding. Then a thought struck him.

"You know how to make stitches?" The question came out as more of a statement. He remembered that when had been in St. Mungo's years ago not everyone knew what stitches were.

Draco nodded and said, "I did some studies in Muggle medicine." Harry was almost shocked that the pureblood had even had a passing thought that Muggle medicine might be helpful. The blonde turned on the water and adjusted it until he was satisfied, then slid into the tub to join his enemy. Draco stared with a playful grin at the boy across from him, who seemed to be much more bashful. His stormy eyes raked over the smaller, devouring every inch of him. Even with all of the injuries he had sustained, Potter still managed to retain his natural charm. Black hair fell around his eyes, hiding emerald pools that would rival actual jewels. He wasn't as white as Draco by any means but he was fair skinned. Harry leaned back against the tub, his arms hugged around his battered midsection. _My God, he is so beautiful_. Draco's brow furrowed as the water began to fill the tub. All day he had been having thought of this nature and it deeply worried him.

The sat silentley, water pooling around them, both feeling somewhat nervous. When the water had reached their chests, Draco turned it off and moved over next an uncomfortable Harry, so that they were lying side by side. The brunette flinched as Draco reached behind him to grab a bottle of Slytherin sighed in exasperation and stood up, water dripping off of his body. Carefully, he slipped behind the smaller, placing one leg on each side of Harry, and wiggled back down into the water, carefully pushing the boy away from the edge. Draco's arms encircled the lithe body which sat directly between his legs. Harry automatically tensed at the blonde's touch, his mouth becoming a thin line. The Slytherin rested his chin on the smaller's shoulder, pulling him closer, and whispered soothingly in his ear, "You're going to have to get used to me touching you. We are going to be doing everything together for the next six months after all."

"But you're Malfoy." Harry said in a very clipped and strained voice. The boy was beginning to panic and his language was muddled with the hysteria building within him. Draco leaned back slowly, easing them both into a laying position. Gently, he pried Harry's arms away from their locked position around the boy's waist.

"Yes, and you're Potter, you stupid prat. It's going to be a very long six months if you won't even properly communicate with me. Now just relax while I wash your hair." Malfoy said, loving the new feeling of the soft skin against his. He bent his knees so that Harry could have some form of an armrest as he reached behind them for a cup that was sitting in next to the shampoo. He dipped the cup into the water and said to Harry, "Close your eyes."

The Gryffindor's face scrunched up as hot water soaked his head and trickled down his back. Draco repeated this action until he was thoroughly satisfied with the wetness of the boy's hair. He sat the cup in the water and reached behind them once more, grabbing the shampoo. His long fingers popped the cap on the bottle and squeezed out some of the creamy liquid into his palm. He slicked both hands with it before diving into Harry's obsidian black locks. The Slytherin's fingers massaged his scalp as the boy's still tense body slowly began relax against his. Draco stared at him, intrigued as well as amused, as a content smile formed on Harry's mouth, his eyes closed in his current calmness. _It's just like washing a small child. A small twenty one year old child who saved the wizarding world. Potter does act like a little kid though. I guess that would make me his babysitter. _Draco chuckled at these thoughts, dipping his hand into the water and retrieving the cup.

"Warble sto funby? Asked Harry through the water cascading over his face.

"You're going to have to repeat that." Said the blonde, scooping up more water.

"What's so funny?" The boy managed to get out before another round of water was dumped on his head.

"Nothing really." Said Draco, "I'm going to wash your back now, okay?" Harry just nodded and felt the Slytherin's long fingers on his waist, gently prompting him to flip over. Once again, Harry tensed but not because he didn't like the feeling. He liked the way Malfoy's silky skin felt against his far to much, considering how much he was supposed to hate the blonde. Slowly, with the help of Draco, he managed to roll onto his stomach and move his legs around the blonde's waist without opening any wounds. Harry lay chest to bare chest against the other, his heart beating so hard he was sure Malfoy could hear it, if not feel it. Harry's body was on fire as the slender fingers guided the foam coated washcloth down his spine between the cuts. Everywhere the blonde touched seemed to be set on fire. It was like a sick, twisted fantasy Harry enjoyed more than he should have. Dirty images of him and the Slytherin were flooding his mind. He blushed, trying to think of anything but the hands roaming over his body.

Draco was feeling similar effects from their closeness. It was all he could do to not nibble and suckle on the skin so nicely displayed in front of him. As his hand reached the base of Harry's spine, the brunette arched slightly, barely brushing their lower regions together. But it was enough to make both draw in another sharp breath. The blonde groaned quietly, trying so hard to keep control of his body. "Don't you fucking dare do that again, Potter." Draco hissed, feeling a tremor of hot arousal run through him.

Harry glared daggers at him, trying to prove that looks could kill. He knew he couldn't punch him for he was currently in a weakened state, so he did the next thing possible. Harry bit into the milky skin of the other's shoulder. It wasn't hard enough to make it bleed but he knew it would hurt and probably leave a mark. Draco just groaned loudly, not in pain but in sexual excitement. The biting made him nearly lose control of actions, wanting desperately to flip the boy over and ravish his patient in the warm water. He frantically pushed the Gryffindor away from his shoulder and into a sitting position against his legs. Harry surveyed his handiwork, a red circle of teeth markings on the pale skin. The Slytherin frowned at him but in wasn't the same glare Harry had seen at Hogwarts. It was less malicious than usual and Draco looked more strained than angry.

Suddenly, water was splashed into the brooding Gryffindor's face from Draco's direction. He coughed and spluttered, splashing back at the other with his eyes shut and head turned away. This quickly turned into a fully fledged close-range water fight where the cup and washcloth became valuable weapons. Liquid splashed up against the walls, out onto the floor, and soaked the boys. Eventually, they collapsed into a wet laughing mess. Harry was sprawled across Draco's pale chest, both gasping for air as they lay in the now less than full tub.

"I think we've had enough bath time." Said the smirking Slytherin, his bite mark long forgotten. "You really shouldn't have moved that much today, Potter. You're going to be one sore git in the morning."

Harry just snuggled into the blonde and enjoyed the warmth from what was left of the water. By now, he had exhausted the small bit of energy he still had left and was ready for bed. Draco was right about not moving so much. Being critically injured and nearly dying the day before does tend to drain people. He was too tired to really care that his arms were wrapping around Draco's neck or that the elder was lifting him out of the bathtub. His eyes slipped shut with fatigue as the blonde stepped out onto the floor.

Draco held the brunette close to him with one arm as he dried the water swamped bathroom with a few flicks of the wand. Harry had attached himself to the Slytherin, making it easier to support the smaller. He looked so weak and tired to Draco and a twinge of affection for the boy ran through him. He opened the closet door, quickly rummaging around, and pulled out a pair of pajamas and a towel. Harry shifted against him and let out a little huff. "Just wait a minute, Potter. Your not sleeping in my bed wet or naked."

"But I'm -yawn- tired." Harry said as Draco swiped the brunette's glasses off of the vanity, turned off the light, and then proceeded back into the bedroom. A dim, warm glow came from the fireplace, making the room look even more inviting and comfortable than it already was. The Slytherin spread a towel out on the edge of the bed and gently rolled the smaller onto it. He placed the other's glasses on the nightstand beside the bed. Harry sat up and began to pat the remaining water droplets off of his skin. Draco handed the smaller his pajamas and said, "You're going to have to put these on yourself."

The blonde returned to the bathroom to dry off and get into his nightwear. Harry clumsily slipped into the loose clothing, his movements heavy with drowse. The Gryffindor managed to get into the shirt and pants after a long struggle with the buttons. Then he folded the wet towel and placed it on the floor with his Speedo. He wriggled under the covers and yelled loudly, "Oi, Malfoy, I'm done!

Draco's head popped out of the bathroom and he said, "There is no need to shout, Potter." He emerged wearing matching black, silky clothes with a green D. M. embroidered on the breast pocket. The Slytherin crawled into the bed with the boy. The brunette wiggled closer to him as inconspicuously as possible. Harry's arms snaked around his neck and snuggled up against the elder. Draco was at first shocked at the smaller's actions but just smirked and said, "I go to all the trouble to make the bed large enough for the both of us and you sleep right on top of me. You just live to annoy me, don't you?"

"Yes, I get up every morning with the purpose of ruining you day." Harry tried to retort sarcastically but it sounded feeble drowned in his sleepiness. He was glad that Draco hadn't shoved him away but he didn't know why nor did he, The Boy Who Now Lived With Draco, know why he was currently cuddling with Malfoy.

"Don't let me forget to wrap you in new bandages in the morning. I should really do it tonight, but I can see that you're already too tired to do much else." Said Draco, trying to find a comfortable position. He wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and gently moved the lithe body until the boy was laying on top of him.

"Okay," Harry yawned, "Goodnight Malfoy." He snuggled into Draco's chest, feeling more relaxed and comfortable than he had all week, perhaps all month. The blonde's arms rested on his back and he could feel the steady rise and fall of Draco's chest. It was comforting to be held like this. He smiled as he shut his emerald eyes. _If this is how home recovery normal goes, I just might survive the next six months._

"Goodnight Potter." Draco said. Harry's breathing quickly evened as he fell asleep but Draco laid awake mulling over the day. Everything went so fast and his reality had been scrambled in a few short hours. _Why do you affect me like this now, Potter? _He looked down at the sleeping boy, envying his peaceful sleep but a tremor of affection ran through him again. _Why do you make me feel things I know I shouldn't? We haven't talked in three years and suddenly you're thrown back into my life a bloody mess. So much has changed since the war but what about you? Have you and your feelings toward the son of a Death Eater changed at all? Will they ever?_ Draco brushed back a few dark locks that fallen into Harry's eyes. He sighed and lightly ran a hand through the damp, black mop the boy called hair. "Sweet dreams, Potter." Draco whispered before falling into a troubled sleep.

**So, how was that? I know that this is all very OOC and I do apologize. If you see any mistakes or have suggestions, please tell me in the comments!**

**B.I.C. **


	4. Lazy Day

**Szia, my lovely readers! That hello was Icelandic! I'm terribly sorry this has been taking forever but I've been terribly sick and ran out of inspiration. Enjoy.**

Harry's eyes blinked open as strong rays of sunlight came pouring in through the window. He quickly shut his eyes, not wanting to go to work and rolled over blindly to close the blinds next to his bed but when he tried to move a searing pain shot through his core. Then it all came flooding back to him. The attack, St. Mungo's, arriving at the Manor, and Malfoy. _Malfoy._ The image of the blonde flashed into his mind as the name echoed through his mind and he opened his eyes fully. Harry scanned the covers but failed to find the Slytherin, who had apparently already woken and left. The brunette groaned and felt unsure of what to do. Even if his legs worked properly, which they did not, he was in to much pain to make an attempt at moving. Wandless, glasses just out of reach, The Boy Who Lived lay trapped under the covers and defeated by his own body. Suddenly, he heard the clack of shoes on marble steps! Harry tried to sit up but was met with another wave of pain accompanied by a twinge of nausea. The silver door handle turned and in stepped the man he had never thought he could be so happy to see.

A smirk pricked at the corners of Draco's mouth as he saw his patient beaming at him. It was the first time in his life that Harry had actually looked relieved to see him. "I assume that you're glad to see me?" Draco said, tones of sarcasm underlying his statement. The Gryffindor just scoffed as he strode over to the bed, holding a black duffle bag. He seated himself next to Harry on the edge of the bed and placed the duffle bag on the floor. The Healer plucked the pair of glasses off of the night stand and slid them onto Harry's face, causing the brunette to blush and frown at the other. "How are you feeling this morning?" Draco asked.

"Everything hurts like hell. I can't move at all, not even my arms." Harry groaned. Every nerve in his body was sore, even the the tips of his fingers ached.

Draco let out an irritated sigh and said, "I told you so! You did too much yesterday and you're going to have to stay in bed all of today." He unzipped the duffle bag and rummaged through it, pulling out a roll of bandages. "I'm going to put new bandages on you since we didn't do that last night."

Draco peeled off the covers and then hooked his thumbs around Harry's waist band and yanked his pants down. Harry yelped being so suddenly exposed. "M-Malfoy! What in bloody hell do you think you're doing?" He stuttered as his pants slid over his ankles.

The blonde huffed in annoyance and said, "Honestly, Potter, I saw you wear little more than underwear last night." Draco unbuttoned Harry's shirt so slowly it could have been hours in the Gryffindor's mind. Each button slipping out of place as blue eyes raked over the bruised skin hungrily, even greedily as the shirt was completely unbuttoned. Cold hands slid over Harry's shoulders, removing the shirt easily. The blonde settled back into the spot where he sat previously while tossing the top to the floor. Draco gingerly grasped Harry's leg and slowly moved it to rest on his own lap, treating it like a piece of very breakable china. The brunette groaned as he felt his stiff muscles stretch. Draco sighed when he saw Harry's eyebrows knit in pain and said, "Sorry, but this is probably going to be painful. The muscle tissue and ligaments in your legs are torn and severed in many places. It's nothing irreparable but it will take the better part of the time you're here to heal them."

He unraveled some of the bandage roll and tore that portion off. Starting at Harry's ankle, the Slytherin wrapped the strip firmly around the first deep cut and bonded it together with a touch of his wand. Harry hissed through clenched teeth as Draco made his way up both legs, wrapped several circles around his middle, and some on his arms, putting a cold salve on the deepest wounds. It wasn't the pain that made him seethe in agony, it was Draco. The Slytherin's cold, wet fingers trailed slowly across every inch of his skin and it was enough to drive Harry mad. He wanted more than just small brushes and minor touches. His body burned for something more, something stronger. It was becoming increasingly difficult to avoid the growing problem in his underwear. If Draco were to notice, there would be nowhere to run or hide. Harry would have to sit in front of the Slytherin and smolder with embarrassment.

As Draco wrapped the last small bandage around Harry's pointer finger, The Boy Who Wore Nothing But Underwear continued to stare at him. The silky platinum blonde hair, high check bones that accented a thin face, a pointed chin, and _his eyes._ They were like the clearest and coldest winter sky flecked with gray fragments. Those eyes connected with his, catching him staring again. Harry blushed and looked away as Draco set his arm gently back on the mattress, got off of the bed, then picked up the Gryffindor's pajamas, which he had carelessly tossed to the floor. First, he slipped Harry's arms into the cotton shirt and started buttoning a line down the boy's torso. Harry swallowed hard as the other put his clothes back on his body, wanting to squirm away when the Slytherin slid on his pants. Harry let out the smallest of moans when the other's hand brushed against the inside of his thigh. _Dammit! Did I just moan because of Malfoy touching me? What is wrong with me?_

Harry felt his heart hammering wildly, like it had last night. He turned beet red, measuring up to the redness of Uncle Vernon's screaming face, as the blonde quickly pulled the pants up to Harry's waist line. The feelings he had running through him intensified every time the Slytherin touched him. Draco smiled at him awkwardly, trying to fight the satisfied feeling he got from hearing Harry moan, "I can now add mummy to the list of insults I have for you." After failing to get a laugh out of the boy, he asked, "You hungry, Potter?"

Harry just nodded, slumping into his pillow, wanting to hide from the other. Draco clapped his hands twice and, with a crack, Herky appeared before them holding a large silver tray full of breakfast foods. The house elf handed the tray to the Healer, bowed as he was thanked by the man, and disappeared again. The tray contained a glass of pumpkin juice and a stack of pancakes steeped in butter and syrup. Carefully, Draco placed the tray on Harry's lap, trying not to spill anything. He kicked off his shoes and crawled into bed, finding a comfortable place on the bed, directly beside the immobile Harry. The blonde picked up the silverware and began to prepare the food for eating. They sat side by side as Draco sliced through the pancakes with ease, though the Boy Who Lived felt uneasy. _Malfoy is being far too nice to me. There has been no screaming, no glaring, nothing at all._

Draco stabbed a small piece of the pancake with the fork and wiped it against the edge of the plate to keep the syrup from spilling on his patient. Harry could taste the sweetness of the liquid as the slice was pressed against his lips. He opened his mouth, closing it tightly around the silverware, and pulled the piece of pancake off of the fork. The blonde continued to feed Harry, watching him chew bite after bite and licking his lips after every swallow. This continued in intervals between sips of pumpkin juice until about the eleventh or twelfth bite. Once more, the brunette slipped the morsel off of the fork but a droplet of syrup squeezed out of the corner of his mouth and slid downward. Draco stared at the dark golden bead, mesmerized by it. The Slytherin leaned in close to his patient, gripping the fork tightly as he set it down on the plate with a clink.

"You're such a slob, Potter." He whispered into the boy's ear, husky tones underlying his voice. His lips brushed against Harry's jawline as he trailed down to the dribble of syrup. Draco's tongue slipped from it confines in his mouth and pressed against Harry's smooth skin. He was sure that he would burst with this new overwhelming feeling that enveloped the Slytherin as he savored the taste of the boy. Everything felt hazy in the bright sunlight that poured in through the window. What was happening to him? All of a sudden, he was losing his inhibitions around Potter, being all together too forward with someone he should despise. Everything was going too fast and it felt good, too good to be healthy, too good to even be real.

As Draco's tongue moved across his cheek, Harry whimpered quietly, trying to hold it all in. The brunette's eyes were squeezed shut and his teeth had about broken the skin of his lower lip. He felt like he was burning alive with arousal. The warm wetness disappeared from his skin, leaving a cooling trail of saliva in its wake. "Be more careful when you eat." Draco tried to say calmly but there was an almost undetectable quiver in his voice. He pressed a napkin to Harry cheek, wiping away what was left. "You could have spilled on the sheets, idiot."

"I-I'm done e-eating." Harry managed to stutter out. _Sheets?! To hell with the sheets! You just licked me! Your tongue touched my cheek! _Even though he was bursting to speak, Harry held his tongue. Draco smirked as he vanished the tray to some unknown place. The blonde preferred Harry like this, flustered, blushing, and at his mercy. He leaned over the side of the bed, rummaging through the black duffle bag once more. His fingers brushed across the sharp edges of the item he was searching for. Pulling from the bag, Draco said, "If you're done eating, then how about a game of wizards chess?"

.•*•.

It was nearly 9:45 p.m. and Harry was laying on top of Draco, snuggled into chest, like the previous night. They had spent the day playing card games, wizards chess (Harry won nearly every time) and making cynical comments while reading the Daily Prophet together. Draco looked down at the unruly mass of chocolate locks that rested just below his chin. This was the first lazy day Draco could remember having in a long time that he actually enjoyed.

"Hey Malfoy, you never exactly explained why we have to share a bed." Harry mumbled sleepily into Draco's shirt.

"Considering you nearly had a conniption yesterday when I mentioned it, I never really had a chance." Draco smirked, "The reason Madame Penlily enforces this rule is because if an accident were to happen, say you had a seizure or something in the middle of the night, I might not reach you in time to do anything to help you."

"Oh, I see." The Boy Who Lived sighed contentedly. He was tired and, despite the occasional sexual tension, the brunette had really liked spending the day in bed with Malfoy. If someone had told Harry at Hogwarts that someday he and Draco would spend the entire day at Malfoy Manor cozied up in the blonde's bed, Harry would like have hexed them. But now, he was actually looking forward to the prospect of having several more days like this one.

**Not as long as I would have liked but I hope you liked it. If you comment be critical, bring out that inner Simon Cowell and tell me about what I need to fix!**

**B.I.C.**


	5. Blood Everywhere

**здравейте my lovely readers! Today's hello was in Bulgarian! ****I really need to work on my other story but I have so many ideas for this story and I really want to write another chapter. I really hate trying to manage two stories at once. But on to other news, my birthday is coming up and I might get enough money to buy a new computer, one with Word and spelling & grammar check! Well, enjoy!**

_There was blood everywhere, spilling onto the floor with a sickening splatter, staining his shirt, trickling into his eyes. Then he was falling backwards onto the cold, wet tile floor. He knew he was going to die here, he couldn't remember what happened but he felt a sense of dread and betrayal. He was in the Hogwarts bathroom, he could understand that much, even with all the chaos around him. He heard a thud as someone fell next to him. He could see that they were on their knees, but couldn't make out a face as his own blood blurred his already poor vision. Frantically, he blinked and glanced up at the face of this stranger. He was shocked at what he saw. It was him. Harry tried to call out to the dream Harry but his voice wouldn't obey him. The kneeling Harry was pale and shaking and kept repeating frantic whispers of "No!" Harry felt all the blood flowing out of him and into the grimy water. The diluted stream of blood reached the dream Harry, soaking into his clothes, smearing on his skin. With wide eyes, the dream Harry held up a quivering hand, red fluid dripping down it, and said in a hollow voice, "No, I didn't- Malfoy!"_

Harry jolted awake crying, his body shaking uncontrollably and cold, clammy sweat running down his back. He could still feel the blood running out of him, as if it were pouring from the cuts buried under his bandages. He was terrified, images of Draco laying in the shallow water, clawing at his chest, a scarlet blotch slowly darkening through his clothes, flashed through his mind. He felt Draco stir underneath him and groan as he sat up, "What in bloody hell?"

As his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room, Draco saw Harry shaking, eyes puffy and red, tears running down to his chin. He immediately pulled Harry up against him into a comforting hug, not having a clue what was happening. The boy was coughing and hiccuping, tears and sweat soaking into Draco's shirt. His hand was laced in Harry's black locks, pressing them together as he whispered soothing words, trying to calm down the Boy Who Lived enough to talk to him. He was still shuddering when he whispered between strangled sobs, "Y-You would have d-died...you...would have died b-because of m-me."

Draco looked down at him and in a confused voice said, "Potter, what the he-"

"YOU WOULD HAVE DIED!" Harry bawled, fisting Draco's shirt with what strength he had, "It w-was all my f-fault...I didn't know the s-spell would d-do that...If Snape h-hadn't been t-there...I'm s-so sorry."

"Calm down, Potter," Draco said, feeling quite bewildered, "What are you going on about?"

Harry took in a deep, shaky breath and said quietly, "I had a dream...about that time in the bathroom...during sixth year...when Snape saved you...except this time...I was you...This time, I was the one bleeding...d-dying...I-I'm so sorry." He buried his head in Draco's chest. Suddenly, it all clicked in the Slytherin's mind and Draco pulled up his knees, pushing Harry back against them so that they were sitting like the previous night in the bathtub. Quickly, he undid all the buttons on his shirt while Harry stuttered out, "W-What are you d-doing?"

Draco pointed to his pale chest and asked firmly, "Do you see these scars, Potter?" In the very dim fire light, Harry could barely make out the many ridges of already nearly invisible white marks. He nodded and the Slytherin said, "You created most of them that day." Harry felt Draco take his hand and press it against his pale chest. He could feel the warmth of the skin but he could also feel the bumps where deep cuts used to be, cuts that he made. Underneath all of it, he could feel Draco's heartbeat, a steady, deliberate if you will, pulse that coursed through his fingertips. A heartbeat that he had almost stopped. Harry stared at the blonde, unsure of what to do and say. He wanted to tell the other that he was sorry, that he would erase all those scars if he could.

Draco sighed, an unnamed emotion crossing his face, he looked almost melancholy,"I'm not angry with you for casting that spell, not in the least. Of course, I was at the time and the next few days I spent in the hospital but...something changed after that." Harry was confused, wondering what Malfoy meant by something changed. Draco looked him in the eyes, gray piercing the green as if he were looking directly into Harry's soul, and said, "Never feel bad about giving me these scars. _Never_. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded, a feeling he had never known coming over him, as Draco pulled him back down against his chest. His feelings were muddled and he didn't really understand half of what Draco meant. He was exhausted, not caring that tears were drying sticky on the both of them, after his emotion wrecking dream.

"Goodnight, Potter." Draco said as he pulled the covers close around them both. Harry was pressed against Draco still bare chest and he could feel the other breathing and could hear his heartbeat. Draco's hand was still caught up in his hair, his fingers draw small circles on his scalp. The Gryffindor wanted to drown in the unorthodox comfort he found in both. It was like nothing he'd ever felt before. Harry felt safe, truly safe for the fist time in his life.

"Goodnight, Malfoy." He whispered into the soft skin underneath him.

.•*•.

Draco awoke in the early hours of the morning around six o'clock, a little tired but he could shake that off easily after breakfast. Carefully, he slid out from under the sleeping mass that lay on top of him. For a moment, the Slytherin sat on the edge of the enormous bed staring at the sleeping brunette. Harry looked incredibly peaceful after last night's fit. Draco laid a large, slender hand on his patient's forehead, brushing it through the messy black hair. He sighed into the dark and slid out of the bed completely, the cold of the room nipping at his bare chest. He dragged himself to the door, fighting the urge to run back to bed and curl up with Harry. As he stumbled down the stairs in a sleepy haze, Draco thought about the paperwork he still had to do and that reminded him that he hadn't checked on his mail for a few days. The house elves usually picked up the Daily Prophet. _Potter probably has letters from the Weasleys and the others. We could read those together but what else are we going to do? I certainly won't last another day playing chess with that cheating prick. It's impossible to fairly win that many times in a row!_

.•*•.

Much to Harry's delight, the use of his arms and hands had returned to him after the relaxation of yesterday, even if the night had been a little rocky. However, he experienced a sight that nearly gave him a heart attack soon after he woke up. Unexpectedly, Draco stepped out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a short white towel, steam billowing around him and water droplets dripping off of his nearly naked body. Harry yelped, squeezed his eyes shut behind his glasses and said, "Malfoy, get your pale ass back in the bathroom and put some bloody clothes on!"

He heard the door slam and reopen minutes later with the Slytherin stepping out fully dressed. "For Salazar's sake! You're such a prude, Potter!"

"I'm not a prude." Harry frowned,"I just prefer you clothed!"

"I didn't know you had a fetish for that." Draco said playfully. Harry hurled one of the pillows at the blonde, who easily caught it. "Oohh, feisty this morning are we?" He sneered, walking over to the fireplace. "At least you're better than last night."

Draco barely saw the hurt flash in Harry's eyes before another forcefully thrown pillow hit him square in the face, catching him off guard and knocking him back. When he had gathered his senses once more, the Slytherin instantly regretted opening his mouth. There was a look on Harry's face that he hadn't seen for a long time, a look that tore straight through him. It was an icy stare, full of loathing and betrayal that made him cringe as contrition swept over him. "Potter, I-"

"Get out." Harry hissed, his voice low and menacing. Draco backed away in the direction of the door, feeling like he was being forced into a corner by a wild animal. He could see an angry tear rolling down the other's cheek. "Get out, Malfoy" The Boy Who Lived spat in a cold and malicious tone, his teeth grinding a little. Draco groped blindly for the door handle, stepping backward and closing the door behind him. The blonde wanted to run back into the room and apologize to Harry, tell him he didn't mean it like that, but, instead, Draco wrenched himself away from the door and trudged down the stairs.

.•*•.

Draco was standing outside in the middle of the garden, trimming dead flowers off of a blooming bush. He had been doing this for the past hour but couldn't focus and kept glancing up at the window of his room. The guilt was eating him alive and the look Harry had given kept appearing in his mind. The Healer had been cursing himself ever since he left the room, trying to think of an excuse to return. Then a thought struck him. _Potter hasn't eaten anything yet today! I'll just pop in for a moment to ask what he wants for breakfast and I'll leave before he gets upset again. Then, of course, I'll have to take it back up to him and I can apologize while he eats._ He sat his gardening shears down on a stone bench in the garden, a smirk on his face because he had come up with what he thought to be a clever plan to see the Gryffindor for a little bit. Draco quickly apperated inside, landing on the top step of the stairs and pushed the door open. The grin fell from his face instantly, his heart plummeting into his stomach, as shock overtook him. The bedside table was knocked over and the white bed sheets were a twisted mess. Harry was sprawled on the floor, his limbs bent at odd angles, and there was blood everywhere.

**Well, this chapter was a bit...all over the place. It wasn't really structured very well so I apologize. I'll make a better attempt on the next one. Tell me what you thought in that lovely little comment area! I love my critics like Italy loves pasta! Pardon the Hetalia joke. Thank you for your continued support!**_  
_

**B.I.C.**


	6. Days Later

**הלו ****my lovely readers! That one was Hebrew! This is not the best of chapters because my good writing skills have crashed. I can't do anything right anymore. I hope this goes well. Enjoy.**

Harry Potter awoke slowly, crawling out of the comfort of sleep cautiously. He didn't immediately open his eyes but he knew there was bright lights in the room, if he was even in a room. For all Harry knew, he could very well be outside. He heard distant murmur of hushed chatter just out of ear-shot. Underneath him was a firm yet cushioned surface which he guessed to be a bed. Harry could feel a heavy blanket spread over him and a pillow supporting his head. What worried him was what he could not feel, his legs. The Boy Who Lived couldn't wriggle his toes, bend his knees, felt no pressure from the blanket, couldn't feel his lower half at all. His first reaction was to test what he could feel. Harry's upper body ached like a giant bruise being constantly poked and prodded. He could feel a thick bindings of gauze across most of his chest and arms, some around his neck area and hands which he had become accustomed to wearing like a shirt in the past few days. Though he tried, the nerves in both his arms wouldn't obey him and they lay useless on the mattress. However, his fingers were working, there was precious little strength in them but at least they were moveable. He was surprised at what he found in his right hand. It was a soft object, squeezable but there were hard things inside that connected together. The object had hard ridges in places and in others it was squishy. He could also feel that it was soft and silky through the places on his hand that weren't wrapped in bandages. Part of the object was pushed between each of his fingers, wrapped around half of his hand gently. Harry pressed his fingers into the object with increasing force though the pressure would likely not have been enough to crush a fly. Suddenly a hoarse but almost familiar voice called out quietly, "I think he might be waking up."

He heard the quick clacking of shoes followed by low whispers of "Don't crowd him!" and "Give the man some space!" Slowly, Harry's bleary emerald eyes opened upon a distorted scene. In front of him were blurry figures, one with what appeared to be large bushy hair and three people who's hair seemed to be on fire, even though Harry knew that couldn't be right. There were others too that were all gathered around the presumed bed, peering at him anxiously. He felt something cold touch his cheeks and realized it was his glasses being pushed into his face. As everything cleared up, he recognized the figures standing beside him. Hermione was clutching Ron's arm tightly, probably painfully, worry lines creasing her forehead. Ron seemed distraught and, as in most situations, looked slightly unsure of what to say and do. Andromeda Tonks stood next to them, looking just as concerned, while holding a curious three year old Teddy Lupin. Molly Weasley stood on the other side with Ginny, grasping both her children's hands just as tightly as Hermione was doing to Ron's arm. Harry's dry chapped lips broke into the biggest smile he could muster at the moment as he opened his eyes a little wider. Everyone, except perhaps , seemed to relax a little at the sight of the smile.

"It's a miracle. You said it could be weeks before Harry woke up," breathed out Hermione in amazement, apparently speaking to someone Harry couldn't see.

"He's a fighter, all right. Always has been," said Ron, beaming broadly at his friend. Harry heard a soft chuckle from beside him.

"Yeah, he has this nasty habit of not dying." Harry heard a man chuckle, though it sounded a bit strained, on his right side. "You just don't give up, do you, Potter?" said the familiar hoarse voice he had heard earlier. The Gryffindor turned his head, straining to see the speaker. Not only did he find whom he had least expected but he found out what he had been holding. It was the hand of Draco Malfoy. The blonde was sitting on a stool next to the hospital bed. He looked exhausted, dark bags drooping under his eyes, a deep slouch in his posture, hints of pale stubble on his normally clean shaven face, and his eyes were red from lack of sleep and what might have been crying. Every nasty comment or thought that arose in his mind that he might have said vanished when he saw the bittersweet smile Draco gave him. The Healer looked worn and tired but that wasn't what bothered Harry. It was his eyes that made a feeling of unease spike sharply in Harry's chest. There was a hollow and broken look in Malfoy's eyes, like something inside of him had died. Yet the Slytherin appeared genuinely happy to see that Harry was awake. The brunette shoved his worries to the back of his mind, dismissing them as needless.

"You wish, Malfoy." Harry retorted jokingly in an effort to see a small spark of the fire in Draco that had seemingly burned out. However, there was no sneer, no condescending air about the other. He felt his throat was going dry and Harry could hear the slightest quaver in his own voice. He squeezed Draco's hand with what little strength he had, trying to do something reassuring. Suddenly, they heard the creak of a door opening and a young nurse, the same one Harry had met last time, walked in.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but we have just been informed that Mr. Harry Potter has woken up. Please allow the Healer a small amount of time with his patient. Right now, it is imperative that we do a standard check of the patient's condition. Afterwards, all visitors will be permitted ten minutes with the patient in groups of two or three at a time." The nurse said briskly. She ushered the pack outside into the waiting area, leaving Draco and Harry alone in the white walled room. The Slytherin stood, regrettably unlocking his fingers with Harry's. The brunette felt the chill of the hospital air hit his skin as the warmth vanished and that chill seemed to creep through him until he was cold all over.

Draco whipped out his wand from the inside white robes he was wearing and said, "I'll try to make this as quick as possible. I don't want to keep your friends waiting. They're fairly worried about you."

"No, it's okay. Take your time. I have some questions I want to ask you anyway," Harry said, his voice almost as cracked as Malfoy's. Draco was muttering quick spells and occasionally jotting down notes on a clipboard that rested on the bedside table. His movements were a little stiff and shaky and his magic didn't have the usual tingle as it swept over Harry. It seemed different, fatigued even, but something else was there too. Something that reminded him of a small taste of what being near a dementor felt like and that worried Harry deeply.

The blonde paused for a breath and said in a clipped voice, "There will be time for questions later, Potter. I think it's more important that you see your friend and family first."

"I have just one quick question that I need answered," Harry said, feeling like he was back at Hogwarts talking to McGonagall. Draco continued to preform his exam but gave a curt nod for him to continue. "How long have I been out?"

"Five days," the blonde said in little more than a whisper, his eyebrows coming slightly together. The brunette just nodded stiffly, feeling confused and still wanting desperately to answers to all the questions flying around his head. Five days was a long time to be unconscious. When Draco had finished scrawling down the last little detail on the clipboard, he walked into the hallway outside the room for a minute and returned with Hermione and Ron. The Healer picked up his stool and moved it to the farthest corner away from them, setting it down with a thud. He perched himself on it and said dryly, "You have ten minutes. Your time starts now." Then he proceeded to cast a noise blocking charm, so that he was deaf to their conversation, and began scanning over his clipboard.

Harry directed his attention back to the pair standing next to his bed. Ron certainly looked more relaxed than his wife, who's expression was a mixture of anger, worry, and joy, giving Hermione a slightly crazed appearance. "Oh, Harry, we've been so worried about you!" The witch began, a quiver in her lower lip, "Ron and I had no I idea how you were doing three days ago and now this happens. We thought you were going to die!"

"Honest, mate, I didn't really know what to think. First, I drag you in here all bloodied up then I'm told I can't see you and you're going through home recovery. Not even a week later, we get an owl saying you're back in St. Mungo's. Come to find out, that git over there," the redhead raved on, stabbing his finger at Draco, "has been looking after you. I thought you'd been murdered by Malfoy!"

Harry chuckled as Ron carried on about Draco whilst Hermione just stared at him in amusement. Finally, the man noticed his friend and wife's laughter and presented his classic look of puzzlement. "I don't think Malfoy would do that." Harry said calmly, a small smirk on his face, "Something about him has changed."

"You've got that right," Ron muttered darkly, "The man really needs a cheering charm. We came in here the other day and he was sitting there holding your hand like earlier and he was..." The redhead stopped, his sentence trailing off as he frowned at the floor with a grim look.

"He was crying, Harry," Hermione said softly, glancing over at the blond who was still occupied with his clipboard, "He looked devastated, worse than I've ever seen him before. The man didn't even make an attempt to be spiteful towards us."

She lowered her voice and continued, "I know that Malfoy hasn't been eating or sleeping right either. I overheard the nurses talking in the hallway and they say he never leaves your side unless necessary. This doesn't sound at all like the Potter-hating pureblood we grew up with, does it? I don't know what all is going on but something's definitely not right and I have a feeling it has to do with you, Harry." Harry just stared at them, bewildered at this information as silence fell through out the room. He couldn't process this new information, it just didn't seem like the truth but then the brunette remembered the expression he had seen on Draco's face when he first woke up. That look went along perfectly with Hermione's story but why would it have anything to do with him?

"So, you never did tell us why you ended up back in the hospital. Malfoy said he found you in your bedroom, lying on the floor unconscious," said Ron, steering away from one uncomfortable subject to another,"What exactly happened?"

"I...um...don't really remember." Harry lied. He could tell it was unconvincing from the glare that Hermione was giving him but, fortunately, she kept silent. The Auror was not ready to share with everybody what went on that day in the Malfoy Manor even though he knew that he would have to tell Draco sooner or latermm. A loud cough sounded and they all turned to see the Healer looking at them. Harry immediately feared that the blonde had overheard them talking about him but quickly remembered the charm Draco had cast earlier.

"Time's up. Send in the next few," said the blonde dismissively and then turned back to his paper.

.•*•.

The rest of the day proceeded like that with a steady stream of visitors coming to see him. All of the Weasley's stopped in to see him, Luna and Neville had popped in for a short visit, even Hagrid had come down bearing the well-wishings of the teachers at Hogwarts. Draco had allowed a little extra time with Andromeda and Teddy, actually taking part in the conversation, which mostly circulated around the little werewolf. Harry had forgotten that Malfoy was the boy's uncle too. He enthusiastically held the energetic tyke, who seemed to like him just as much as he liked Harry, which was quite a lot. It made the Auror smile when he saw a little bit of life return to the blonde's pale face. As for the relationship between Draco and Andromeda, they got along fairly well for family who had fought on opposite sides of the war.

As Harry understood it, Narcissa had re-established good connections with her family after all the post-war trials and was fairly friendly towards most. The brunette actually liked Mrs. Malfoy fairly well and had testified during her trial, which she had graciously thanked him for. Having the help of the Chosen One was a big bonus for your side in court, especially so soon after the war. Harry remembered that after a lot of negotiation and a substantial amount of money given to the Ministry, Draco and Narcissa had got off clean and Lucius had been sent to Azkaban for a minimum of six months. While several people protested this, including Ron, Harry didn't have any objections. The Malfoy family had already taken severe losses during the Second Dark War. _Speaking of the Malfoys, I wonder why Lucius and Narcissa weren't at the house. I'll have to ask Malfoy later._

.•*•.

Harry lay awake in bed, thinking about the day, his thoughts occasionally drifting back to what Hermione had said. _I don't know what all is going on but something's definitely not right and I have a feeling it has to do with you, Harry. _The words seemed to echo ominously in his head, as he lay quiet in the dark. His Healer had long since fallen asleep, without answering a single question of Harry's. After the line of people to see him had dwindled down, it had been dinner time. Draco had fed him silently, not looking him in the eyes at all like a guilty criminal talking to a judge. Then he had turned out the lights, saying that Harry needed to rest, and had sat down on his stool beside him. Not long after, Harry had heard the man's breathing even out and his body slumped against the wall. Unfortunately, all of the brunette's burning questions would have to wait until tomorrow. He still wanted to know why he couldn't feel his legs. Suddenly, Harry heard the squeak of a door and a ray of light shown into the dark room. The clatter of a woman's heels sounded as a dark figure walked toward him. Harry recognized it to be the same nurse as earlier in the day, Nancy, as he recalled. She was holding a glass of water and a couple of pills in another. "Mr. Potter, are you still awake?" Nancy whispered, bending slightly over him.

Harry whispered back, "Yeah, I'm still up. What do you need?"

"I want you to take a few of these pills. They help with the pain as well as give you a deeper sleep," she said, tilting her hand so the Gryffindor could see them more clearly. Harry nodded and opened his mouth for her. The medicine went down easy, followed by the chlorine-like taste of public water. Nancy thanked him for his cooperation and began to leave when she suddenly turned around and said, "You know, you really are special, Mr. Potter, and not just because of the war."

Harry was startled and asked, "Why am I special?" This was all very out of the blue and slightly bewildering.

"Because you make Draco smile," she said, walking towards the half open door.

Harry scoffed a little and said, "I don't see anything particularly unordinary there." Making Malfoy smile was not to be considered a special thing in his books. No, if anything it should be a bad habit. Nancy stepped halfway out the door and looked at him over her shoulder.

"Since the day I met him, Draco has not smiled. He has not smiled in at least three years. Not even once." She said quietly and closed the door with a click, leaving Harry to his thoughts.

**All right, back to business. I appreciate your thoughts if you would be so kind as to leave them in the comments. I love constructive criticism! Thank you for your continued support of BWWK! The next chapter will be up soon if I can discipline myself enough to work on my other stories. Hasta la vista!**

**B.I.C**


	7. Five Unexpected Guests

**Goodness, I've never written anything this long in my life and it's not even that lengthy. This chapter is a little rushed and a little redundant. There will be grammatical errors which I intend to fix as they're pointed out. Well, my lovey readers, enjoy.**

Bright beams of sunlight poured in through the windows of St. Mungo's on two sleeping figures, one slouching on his stool and leaning against the wall, the other heavily bandaged and lying in bed. They both woke with a jolt as a loud knock on the door was heard. Draco groaned, standing up from his chair and trudged over to the door, trying to wipe the sleep from his eyes. Harry just sighed, sinking back into his pillows, wondering what on Earth someone could want this early in the morning. The blonde opened the door to reveal the ever stern looking Madame Penlily. She reminded them both strongly of a younger Minevera McGonagall.

"Good morning, Madame," Draco said, his eyes widening a little with surprise. She gave him a curt nod. The click of her shoes echoed throughout the silent room as she walked over to Harry's bed. Her hair was drawn up in the same tight bun and her red lipstick was just as bright as a few days ago. The Head Healer conjured up a chair for herself next to Draco's and sat down, crossing one leg over the other. The blonde eased back down onto his stool feeling slightly muddled as to what was going on.

"How are you feeling today?" Madame Penlily asked addressing Harry. Her tone was kind and caring but firm, as it always seemed to be.

"Um...I'm pretty good for the most part. Everything aches a little but the pain medication helps and I still can't feel my legs. Some food wouldn't be bad either." Harry said. He hadn't eaten since last night and hunger was beginning to gnaw at his insides.

"Trust me, you don't want to feel your legs," Draco said darkly, a foreboding tone in his voice. Harry gave the blonde a questioning look. "We had to completely numb your lower half because, with all the damage done to them, we thought you probably wouldn't be able to stay conscious with the pain. Eventually, we'll ease some feeling back into you but it's going to be a while."

"Speaking of the damage done to your legs, I don't believe we ever heard the story of why you're in this state," said the woman, prompting Harry to spill the beans. They were heading in a direction the Chosen One did not want to discuss. He was thoroughly ashamed of himself, especially after ending up back in the hospital. It didn't seem so terrible at first to the average person but one little misjudgment had nearly cost Harry his life.

"Well, I...I tried to walk," Harry said, a guilty look forming on his face. He remembered sitting up and pulling both legs off the bed so that his feet rested on the floor, placing his hand on the nightstand and pushing upward. Next thing he knew, he had hit the ground with a sickening crunch and pain washed over him as warm liquid pooled under him. Swiftly, his vision had become dotted with black spots then disappeared as he'd slipped away into darkness.

Both of the Healers mouths were open in a comical O, looking horrified at this news. It was mortifying to tell the medical professionals he had directly disobeyed the one of the few orders he had been given to ensure his safety.

"What on Earth made you try to walk?!" demanded Madame Penlily, her brow furrowing deeply. The tension in the room had escalated as subtle anger began to brew in the formidable woman. Harry felt his face burning with shame and embarrassment because of his rash decision.

"Malfoy and I had a spat. It wasn't even about anything serious. I overreacted and let my anger get the best of me. I told him go away and made him leave me alone in the room. I though it wouldn't be any big deal to walk for a little bit since I could move my arms. I was feeling offended and bitter so I came up with a ridiculous idea, one of the stupidest plans I've ever devised," Harry said, avoiding eye contact with either Healer. He felt idiotic for ever having attempted to walk, especially with such an idea in mind. He didn't want to say it out loud. The Auror swallowed thickly before continuing, "I was trying to run away from Draco. I didn't want to be anywhere near him, no matter what it took to get away."

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Draco blanche, the man's face going deathly pale, even more so than normal. This surprised the Boy Who Lived because normally Draco held such a hostile disposition toward him. It couldn't possibly bother him that Harry didn't want to be near him. No, it was probably the Slythrein worrying about what Madame Penlily might think of that. Harry quickly convinced himself that his deduction was obviously the answer. He sighed and resumed his speech, "I'm usually not the one who comes up with the plan, most of the time it's Hermione. It was foolish on my part. I didn't think about getting down all those stairs or off the bed, much less where I would go. I apologize for not realizing the full extent of the consequences of my actions. I was being selfish and stupid."

"You most certainly were, Mr. Potter. I have never heard something so ridiculous in my entire career. All this over a little argument. Not only have you managed to reverse any small progress you made but you also added several other complications to the healing process," Madame Penlily said angrily, fixing her stern stare on him, "The potion your attacker gave you is still in you body so magic can do little to speed up your recovery. You reopened nearly all of your wounds and had major loss of blood. If Mr. Malfoy hadn't came back when he did you would have bled to death and wouldn't be talking to us right now. _Never try to walk again! _You may lose the ability to use your legs completely if you do!"

Harry just nodded, looking down at his white sheets. This was worse than any punishment he had ever gotten at Hogwarts. At school, the aftermath always seemed to blow over eventually but, now, he'd made a mistake that nearly cost him his life. "Now, as for your living arrangements," the woman continued, "I feel it might be best if we were to move you away from Draco to a different heal-"

"NOOO!" Harry bellowed. Madame Penlily and Draco ogled at him, shocked at his uncouth and deafening outburst. Harry felt his ears burn with embarrassment. _Why did I just scream that?! This is my chance to get away from Malfoy!_ His brain whirled as he tried to produce a reason to justify his loud answer. He didn't know what he was doing or thinking, everything was reacting on impulse. "What I mean is...uh...since I already know Malfoy...I'll be more comfortable with him...even if we don't have the best history. I swear, I won't try to walk or leave again."

Harry felt like slapping himself in the face. He had almost inevitably ensured the continuation of his stay at the Manor. Draco gave him a strange, penetrating look, seemingly searching his face for something and the smallest hint of a spark rekindled in his cold eyes. "You know," he said quietly, "I think it would be a good idea if we let Potter have visitors. It gets lonely and boring in such a big house. Besides, friends work wonders on his mental state. Look how much his attitude towards me has improved. He needs to see people, preferably the ones he likes."

Harry did a double-take. Had Malfoy really just suggest something for the Gryffindor's benefit? This was uncharacteristic for the blonde and Harry felt the slightest suspicions that his motives could be, well, a bit immoral.

Madame Penlily sighed, her eyebrows lifting from their scrunched position, "Well, I suppose that rule could be lifted considering the healing affect seeing family tends to have, but visiting times will have to be limited. I'll send you the paperwork for that later. It seems that you're both determined to keep your current living arrangements. It's settled then." She arose from her chair, straightening the collar of her white coat, "Mr. Potter, you will continue to stay with Mr. Malfoy for the remaining period of his long recovery. I'll see you two soon." She apperated with a resounding crack, leaving the pair in a stunned silence.

Harry slumped into the bed, letting his stiff muscles relax. Draco looked as tired and dispirited as he had since the brunette had woken up. The silence stretched on uncomfortably, seemingly for hours with only the ticking of the clock to show the world was still in motion. Suddenly, a loud crash sounded outside their room followed by loud, incomprehensible shouts. Both of the two's gazes swung sharply over to the door as the noise grew louder and nearer.

Draco stood alert, drawing his wand and moving protectively in front of Harry. The door burst open with bang and in walked three unexpected guests. In the middle and leading the party was a petite woman with short black hair and a scowl. Behind her were two men, one was tall, dark skinned, and had eyes so dark they were nearly black, while the other had wide shoulders, twinkling blue eyes, and a long, thick mop of sandy curls atop his head. They all marched directly toward Draco and Harry, their black robes billowing.

"Pansy?!" Draco exclaimed in confusion, lower his wand. The trio came to a halt inches from him. "Blaise and Theo? What the hell are you guys doing here?"

"This is an intervention, Draco," Pansy Parkinson said, frowning up at him with her hands on her hips. Harry felt as perplexed as Draco looked at the moment because, as far as he knew, it wasn't a part of hospital procedure to have a brash bunch of Slytherins stampede into your room. "We heard you haven't been taking care of yourself. Did you honestly think that it would escape our notice?"

"Is that all this is about?" Draco sneered down at her like a brother to a little sister, "I'm fine, Pans."

"Denial. It the fist sign of insanity." Theodore Nott comment from behind her with a devilish smirk on his face, his blue eyes twinkling with mirth. Draco just glared at his friend while Harry tried to cover his snicker with a cough. He felt as though this was going to be amusing.

"Anyways, you're going to take a shower and eat breakfast while I have a chat with Potter." Parkinson stated determinedly.

"No, I won't!" protested the blonde haughtily, crossing his arms over his chest, reminding Harry of a young Dudley who wasn't getting his way.

Pansy sighed and said, "I really hoped it wouldn't come to this. Go ahead guys." Theodore and Blaise surged forward, each grabbing one of Draco's arms so that he was pinched between them. Pansy quickly jumped out of their way as they dragged a screaming and kicking Draco forward.

"This is mutiny! Mutiny, I say!" Malfoy cried as he was unwilling moved forward.

"Goodbye Draco!" Pansy called after him, waving as he continued to screech. Even after he had been wrestled out of the room, his shouts could be heard in the hallway. Harry lay still in his bed, dumbfounded at the events that had just occurred.

"Now then, Harry," the dark haired girl said, pulling up Draco's stool, "I believe we may have enough time to talk before he comes running back in here." Harry just stared at the Slytherin, like she was a foreign creature from another planet. "I know this is all very unexpected and you have no clue as to what's happening but I have important business to discuss with you about our favorite little blonde git."

"Um...okay?" the boy said weakly, unsure of what was going on. So much had already happened in the last hour and Harry's head was spinning. There was no possible way that the morning could become any stranger.

"I, being one of Draco's closest friends, get letters from him daily. It's mostly because I make him do it but that's beside the point. The fact is that I know what's been going on in Malfoy Manor for the past few days. I know that you're staying with him and I know the reason why." Not even a tentative hint of a smile crossed the woman's face as she continued to speak at a rapid pace.

"What I want to talk to you about is the fight you had with Draco right before you ended up here." Harry tensed at the mention of this. Pansy noticed this subtle movement, her skills as a psychological therapist unerring, but continued without pausing, "Draco hasn't been himself for the past week, as you've probably noticed. He's only been this badly out of sorts once or twice before and what I believe to be most likely reason Draco has been acting so strangely is because of this fight."

"But why? We had way worse fights back at Hogwarts. This was nothing compared to what we've gotten into before," Harry asked, once again confused. Why on Earth did Pansy Parkinson need to talk to him about a fight and what was so important about it? Pansy sighed deeply, a pained and far off look crossing her face before her frown returned.

"It's not so much the fight as the way it happened. Draco said something you found upsetting and then you ended up badly injured not too soon afterward. I don't care why what he said hurt you or why you were injured. None of that is important." She gave him a piercing glare with her cold, dark brown eyes. The intensity of her stare seemed to bore holes into Harry's head, "Now, if I tell you this, you must _swear _that it stays confidentially between us. This is all completely on a need to know basis." Feeling as though he was heading into dangerous territory but still curious, Harry nodded.

"A couple years back, the summer after the war, Draco met this pureblood lady named Astoria Greengrass at one of his trials. Astoria was a sweet young woman who didn't seem to mind that everyone believed Draco was a Death Eater. She was kind to him, kinder than most anyone else at the time. They became close friends and began spending a great deal of time together. Now, this was all happening around the time Draco was beginning to come to terms with the fact that he's gay."

If Harry had been drinking anything he most certainly would have done a spit-take. Noticing the boy's shocked face, Pansy stated,"I take it that you didn't know Draco isn't straight." Harry just bobbed his head, his brain overrun by this. "It's actually pretty logical. He never had much freedom or right to make decisions for his future. His entire life was planned out for him but after the war all of thar changed and he could be whatever he desired." The fact that Draco liked men surprised Harry more than it should have considering the Boy Who Lived had done his coming out shortly after the war but only to his close friends. It had been a long and awkward conversation but everyone had accepted it well enough. At first, no one except Hermione and Ginny could believe him, the pair having already suspected something was up. It isn't every day that you learn that Harry Potter, the so called Savior of the Wizarding World, was completely and utterly homosexual. Fortunately, the Daily Prophet still hadn't discovered this.

"Anyway, back to the story. Awhile after Draco had figured out that his preferences were different, the Malfoys hosted their annual fall dinner party. Most of the family and several old friends were invited. I was there and, of course, so was Astoria," Pansy said, moving the conversation along briskly.

"What does this have to do with Malfoy's current state?" inquired Harry. He still had no idea where this tale could be leading.

"Everything! Just shut up and listen," Pansy scowled at him, resembling Draco's intimidating frown in an almost uncanny fashion, "I was sitting in the parlor with Narcissa and a few other women when we heard this crash outside the door. Naturally, we all rushed into the next room, fearing the worst. What we found was very different than we thought it would be at first. Astoria was standing next to Draco with her lips pressed firmly on his. Draco was frozen and wide eyed. The crash we had heard was his wine glass being dropped to the floor. It took him a few moments to gather his senses, but Draco removed himself from her and gently explained his preferences were for men." Pansy's gazed wandered from Harry to the window on the opposite wall. She didn't want to show any more emotion to this man during this than she already had.

"This is where everything derailed," said Pansy, trying to keep herself stolid, "Astoria was a lady with fairly fragile emotions and didn't take the news well. She believed that she and Draco had a special connection and were meant to be together. Astoria ran outside right after he told her. It was pouring buckets out there and she wasn't familiar with the surrounding area. Of course, Draco and I chased after her immediately. He still cared for her, even if it wasn't romantically. She'd become like the little sister he had never had. After all, she had been kind to him even after all the shit that happened in the war. And the worst possible thing that could have happened did..."

Pansy looked down at her folded hands in her lap, blinking back tears. These were things she didn't want to see again._ It's all my fault. It should've been me._ Those words echoed through her head as the haunting image of the broken man who had said those words surfaced in her memory. She said quietly, "She was never a very strong person, always somewhat sickly. It was raining so hard that she couldn't see to walk in the right direction and had left her wand behind. It was so sudden that I wonder if she ever even knew what happened. Astoria was hit by a drunk Muggle in a car and she died on impact. Draco...He saw the whole thing from the sidewalk. When I caught up to them, he was kneeling on the road and holding her body. He was covered in blood and soaked to the bone with rain. And the things...the things he said to me then...the look on his face. I still have nightmares about it. Draco went into this state of depression for months after the accident. He blames himself for it through the logic that if he hadn't told her about his sexuality she wouldn't have been outside in the rain and wouldn't have been hit by the car."

Harry was astounded by the story. He felt lucky that Ginny, who had been his girlfriend when he came out, had been accepting of him. He couldn't bear to lose someone who had become like a little sister to him. Not so soon after the war, where he had lost many people he considered family. "But that's not-"

"Not his fault, right?" Pansy said, her face clouded with mixed emotions. She hated to tell this story but Harry needed to know if they were going to live together, "Draco knows that's all he'll ever hear from anyone so he never says a word about it. He doesn't want sympathy or empty apologies from people who never knew her. All he wants is Astoria back with us."

"But why did you tell me this?" the boy asked, still in the dark about why this was important to his current situion. Pansy gave him the same glare Hermione had given him for years, the glare of _How Thick Are You? _

"Draco said something that upset you badly. Then you made him get out of the room so that you disappeared from whatever protection Draco thought he could offer. Later, he comes back up to find you near dead and bleeding everywhere. Think about it, you idiot."

As it dawned on him, Harry felt his heart plummet. The Griffindor was shaken with how similar the stories were. Just different times and places in which a few words birthed disastrous results. "I...I told him earlier today that I was trying to run away from him. That it didn't matter where I went...just as long as I got away."

Harry felt a pain in his inside his chest. At that moment, he hated himself. Harry felt pathetic and queasy as the empty look on Draco's face arose in his mind. He could feel bile rising in his throat as his stomach churned violently. The boy knew what it was to lose someone you love like family and how hard it was, how it killed you inside, to try to move on. And by saying that he wanted to run away, it was like pouring and rubbing salt into a profusely bleeding wound. He wanted to apologize, to fix that lifeless look in Draco's eyes, to do something...anything. Suddenly, a thought struck him.

"Why would it matter to Draco what happens to me?" Harry inquired, "Doesn't he hate me?"

"Hate you? Draco?" The first grin he had seen on Pansy's face glimmered at his question. "He has never hated you, not even when we were kids. He's despised you, envied you, is annoyed by you, and has held a very long grudge against you, but, no, Draco doesn't hated you. As for why it matters to him what happens to you, I have no clue why you could possibly be so important to the git," Pansy said.

"Didn't you say earlier that you are close friends? Friends usually know these things." Harry said, the feelings of pain and sickness subdued for the moment.

"I have many theories about it and, since you're being rude, you get to hear none of them." Harry assumed the look of a pouting child at this statement from the woman. "But I will tell you this," Pansy continued, "You seem to have a particular effect on him that no one else does. You make him show emotions that many people think he doesn't even posses. Something about you drives him over the limit until he can't hide behind his normal front. All of his suave and ego are just walls he hides behind. Draco has scars to match even yours, Harry Potter." Her eyes lingered on the lighting shape mark on his forehead for a moment.

"He's so torn up inside that I doubt he'll ever find peace and I hate that there's nothing I can do. The world is against him and, in his mind, he believes they're right. I can't even remember what he looks like when he smiles. Draco hasn't been happy since the war, not since he..." she trailed off into a troubled frown but continued,"But you, Potter, I believe that he finds something in you. I don't know what that something is but it makes him more like his old self, the Draco that used to pull pranks on his father with me and steal food off of Blaise's plate when he wasn't looking. That was a side of Draco you never got to know and it's a pity because I have a feeling you two would've been good friends. This is why I have a favor to ask of you. Don't let him slip away, don't let him drown in his pain. Bring back that side of Draco to us. I know you're probably the only one who can do it. I'd give anything, even my own life, if it would bring Draco a little peace."

**Bang! **They both gave a jolt as the very man they had been speaking of raced in, looking utterly ferocious and contumacious. His blond hair was a tousled mess, his clothes were sopping wet, and what looked like oatmeal was splattered across his white robes. The fuming man was quickly joined by Theodore and Blaise. They too were soaked and slathered in oatmeal. Theodore had a blue bowl on his head that was slightly covering one eye. Quickly, he swiped it off of his head and held it, looking sheepish.

"I take it breakfast and a shower didn't go well," Pansy said, a hint of amusement in her voice. Draco looked like he might just behead her. His face had turned precisely the color of a beet and a vein was bulging slightly in his neck.

"WELL?! DID IT GO WELL?! I HAVE NEVER SEEN SUCH A PAIR OF INCOMPETENT, MORONIC, INCAPABLY IDIOTIC BUFFOONS IN ALL MY LIFE!" Draco thundered, jabbing a finger wildly at the two men standing beside him. Harry was not sure if Draco would pass out from lack of air due to screaming so loudly or from sheer anger first. "THESE TWO ARE THE HEIGHT OF STUPIDITY! NO ONE HAS EVER HAD AN IQ LOWER THAN THEM! EVEN THE WORMS IN THE DIRT ARE SMARTER THAN THEM BECAUSE THEY AT LEAST KNOW WHAT THEIR FUNCTION IN LIFE IS! I'M SURPRISED THEY CAN EVEN COMPREHEND HOW TO BREATHE!"

Draco continued to rant while Pansy leaned over and whispered in Harry's ear, "Don't worry. He'll run out of steam quickly." And sure enough, the blonde was soon leaning against Blaise, panting slightly from all the screaming. "Are you done, Mr. Malfoy?" asked Theodore, looking just as amused as Pansy even though he had just been throughly yelled at.

"Yes, I'm quite finished," he said calmly then turned to Pansy, eyes ablaze with fury,"Now, tell me, what did you do to my patient while I was gone?"

"We just had a little chat, _didn't we_, Harry?" she said forcefully, telling him to play along. Harry hid a smallest curve of a grin and nodded. Draco opened his mouth to speak but before he could a deafening alarm blared throughout the room. The sound was high pitched, annoying, and, like any warning alarm, fluctuated in tones, occasionally deepening then returning to blasting the highest note.

The Slythereins all jumped to attention, wands out and at the ready. Moving slowly, they formed a protective semicircle around Harry's bed and all faced the door as the alarm continued to screech. Harry's heart rate was beginning to increase and uneasiness prickled at his scalp. Something was obviously very wrong, he could feel it in the tension of the room, and not knowing what was causing the commotion made him anxious. They waited silently for a change, for something to happen that would signal their next move. Muffled footsteps could be heard out side the door, as if several people were running through the hallway. A loud knock was heard over the tumultuous chaos before the door was flung open by Nancy Ingles. She was breathing hard, her face was flushed, and her braided hair and white robes looked sightly unkempt and messy. Harry could see people over her shoulder who were running through the hall, some looking confused, others terrified.

"Madame Penlily sent me up to tell you the news," Nancy huffed out trying to catch her breath, "Downstairs, someone has forced their way in and they're threatening murder unless we meet their demands." She paused for a split second before continuing, "They want...Harry." The horror and shock of her message sank in as they stood stunned. Panic began to swell in Harry's chest and his throat dried up. Flashes of images ran through his mind, pictures of the war and hoards of Death Eaters surfacing. "She said you and Harry need to leave, Draco. _Now_." Nancy said firmly, her tone deadly serious as the alarm continued to sound. She turned swiftly and sprinted down the hall with the rest of the crowd to some unknown destination.

Harry glanced quickly around at his current companions. They all looked agitated and grim. Draco had gone pale again as well. However, the blank gaze he had before was gone and replaced with a determined fire none had seen for quiet a long time. The blonde man cleared his throat and looked at the three other Slythereins with a questioning gaze. "The drawing room this time?"

They all nodded solemnly, leaving Harry in the dark about a plan that had apparently been formed and still feeling distressed about the situation at hand. The Pansy turned to Draco and said with an air of hasty finality, "We'll see you there." She, Blaise, and Theo vanished with a crack. Harry suddenly felt strong arms sliding under him as Draco gently lifted his body from the bed. The Gryffindor bit his lip to keep from groaning in pain as he was pulled into a warm but soggy embrace. His muscles ached from the sudden movement after days of laying still, the painkillers doing little to help him. He was being held bridal style, like Draco had done before when they took a bath. The sweet scent that followed Malfoy wherever he went engulfed Harry as he was carefully pressed close to the man. A hint of oatmeal and public water accompanied this aroma. Harry could feel the arms that held him were strong and steady. He leaned his head against the Healer, finding a small piece of comfort in Draco's scent as a small shiver of fear running through him. The panic he had seen over Nancy's shoulder reminded him all to strongly of past experiences that had ended in calamity.

Draco looked down at the small body in his arms. Harry looked so frail and thin, wrapped head to toe in white gauze. He hung limply like a rag doll, only supported by Draco's strength. The blonde could feel his patient shaking slightly as tremors ran through the boy who looked scared and uneasy. His emerald eyes were wide, hidden just behind black strands. He had never seen Harry like this, vulnerable and afraid. Draco felt an urge go through him. It was a strange sensation that he had never had before, the need to protect. The blonde adjusted his hold, hearing a quiet groan of pain from the smaller. Harry's head now rested on his shoulder, nearly level with the Slytherien's chin, which was much more comfortable for the both of them.

"We're going home now, Potter." Draco murmured in his ear. Suddenly, Harry felt the familiar jerk of apparating as the hospital bedroom disappeared. Sharp and excruciating pain shot through his core as the air swirled around him. The air was squeezed out of both their lungs and Harry was pressed into Draco as he was squeezed tightly, as if through a tube.

The pain that coursed through Harry settled to a throbbing sting as a new rem came into focus and the use of their lungs returned. It was darker in this room than in St. Mungo's and there was several items of furniture, mostly chairs and couches. Pansy, who had been closing the curtains, turned around as soon they entered. Harry let out a small moan as another strong wave of pain ripped through him. Draco looked down sharply and heard Pansy gasp in the background. She quickly rushed out of the room, not bothering to close the door behind her, looking slightly frantic and panicked.

Seeing a shaken and distressed look on Draco's face, the Auror glanced down at hisself. A deep red blotch was soaking through the bandages on Harry's chest. Harry's eyes widened in shock as he saw the dark stain begin to spread quickly across his middle. Draco quickly hurried to the nearest couch, trying not to jostle Harry anymore than he had to. He sat down gently and laid the boy down across his lap, careful to support his head with a pillow. The Gryffindor's face was becoming a pale, waxy color as Draco dug furiously through the pockets on the inside of his coat. He pulled out a vial of silvery liquid and unscrewed the cap, his hands shaking. Harry watched him do this as his vision began to fade a little more with ever throbbing pulse of hurt. Draco pressed the vial to Harry's lips and said, "I need you to drink this, Potter." Worry was laced through his tone and shone clearly in his blue-gray eyes that searched the boy's face. Harry parted his lips and felt the thin liquid pour in quickly. He swallowed quickly, for it was bitter and seemed to be boiling hot in his mouth. Another wave of pain crashed down but it was less this time because he could no longer feel anything below his pectorals. Draco stroked a hand through the thick black hair, wiping away the cold, clammy sweat that had formed, as numbness increased throughout his body. Harry's eyesight was nearly lost as black spots dotted his vision. The last thing he saw was those wintery eyes, worry swimming in their depths along with something deeper, something that Harry didn't dare believe to be real.

**If you have the time, a comment would be much appreciated so that I can farther my writing skills. Thank you so much for your continued support. See you soon!**

**B.I.C.**


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